


Ticket

by AltaVega9



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 14:23:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17624069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AltaVega9/pseuds/AltaVega9
Summary: In the library, he sees it all come together. He wants to go to Eiji, to live, to really live. In his hand, he clasps the ticket. It could be both start and answer.





	Ticket

He trudged past rows of familiar scratched wooden tables and chairs, reading lights flickering a soothing emerald glow, his footsteps heavy, breathing labored, seeking out the place where they had sat. He was feeling cold--vaguely, he knew it was because of the blood loss--but he also knew it was probably because most of the adrenaline in his veins from a while back was now spent, not leaving him with any more help than it had already generously afforded him; he had gotten this far because of it. It was enough. It was more than what he needed, hoped for. 

He had only brought Eiji once here--how he now wished he had taken him more times--but the memory of sitting across him, like any other person talking to a friend about something interesting in hushed voices, was burned into his mind like a brand he could always and immediately return to at the slightest prodding. He found the right spot and slid into the chair, jostling his wound in the process and eliciting something half way between a snarl and a groan, which he quickly concealed. He closed his eyes and willed himself to breathe deeply before putting the letter on the table with a bloody hand that he discovered, was numb and shaking. 

The library had always been his sanctuary, an almost holy place where, for an immeasurably small time that seemed like an eternity, he could shut out the life that he lead, and along with it, all the chaos and conflict and fucked up shit he had been accumulating like a hoarder on a high all these past few years. Among the books and the quiet and the faceless sea of people who had come to drown in something other than their own misery or mischief, he could be somebody else, human in every sense of the real word, a person with a love for learning, with interests, with dreams, with information to keep him company, not as a weapon to use against one of Papa's many enemies. 

Whenever he came by to read and reflect and live the real life he encountered each time he visited, he put on shirts that buttoned at the wrist, wore vests, put on the glasses that threw everything into sharper effect. He found his Converse more comfortable, liked the unencumbered mobility his jeans and t-shirt afforded him on a regular day, but much as they liked to picture him as a wild, vicious animal, he wasn't all hoodlum and hurt that had learned to strike back. 

Somewhere in him, as he grew up, he realized he was heart and head and hope too, and here, among pages and pages of thoughts and facts and opinions, he could be himself, no judgment, just a guy who wanted to know what and why there were so many ugly, complicated things that had destroyed his world, what the names of those things were and how he could make sense of it all, protect the little, last piece that was still him. Here, he could understand. He could face it head on and not come out of it with one more thing taken away from him. Here, he could arm himself. Here, he could let himself fall apart without the fear of being stabbed or shot in the head.

He smiled at the irony. But here he was, bleeding profusely to death, wondering what it all meant now, clutching a piece of paper from the only person left living that meant anything and everything to him. He was sure Eiji would have been beside himself; Ash was mucking up the floor, nor did he care that he wasn't seeking treatment in an emergency room somewhere. Here he was instead, trying to blend in, trying not to bring any attention to himself, aware of the fact that this small sanctuary had become even smaller--his approaching death was contained to the space he occupied at his desk and the serenity was inviting but strange all the same. What a morbid way to die, surrounded by people, but unnoticed, ignored, unseen. Well, he thought to himself, at least the peace he had known this very place to have would comfort him, embrace him in his final moments as he prepared to go. It would still be his safe haven, his small garden of light.

He bent forward and opened the letter. Read it, felt his heart accelerate in his chest, swallowed back all the swears and cries and whispers of gratitude and guilt and torment that were swelling in him, threatening to escape his throat, before folding the letter and watching his tears fall unto the paper, saturating it. He did not want the peace here anymore. He did not want it, it wasn’t saving him, protecting him anymore. Outside, the world was evil and cruel and unjust, but it was also the world where Eiji lived, breathed, was. The world had changed. It wouldn't all be just dark alleyways and gun shots and pain and turmoil and hate, it would be much more, much more like life was meant to be. His days would be different. His days would definitely stretch into years and years of what it was to know and feel truly and wholly alive. 

But as his head dropped to the table and a few strands of fair hair concealed his eyes, he wondered why he didn't feel the least bit cheated. He couldn't see anymore. He felt very, very tired. But it was a welcome feeling--to escape one cage and to walk into another, but one he chose in the heart of a kind, tender, dark-haired man. There he was fine with not ever leaving or walking out. 

Let me rest my eyes for a bit, love, Ash whispers underneath his breath. I need my strength. It’s a long way to the realm of those eight million gods you mentioned. This ticket isn’t going to waste.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, everyone. I took liberties with how the actual scene plays out, but I hope you allow a little suspension of disbelief. I've tried to make it worth your while.
> 
> I'm hoping this can still hit home, despite some tweaking from my end. I just wanted to explore Ash's state of mind at the time. Let me know what you think. Thanks!
> 
> P.S. In spite of what this piece posits, I don't buy into the "resolution" that Garden of Light offers. Meaning to write some fanfiction about that. Hopefully, very soon. Cheers!


End file.
